The Body Electric
by wordsmithsonian
Summary: Hermione has never particularly liked her body, but she rethinks her self assessment when Ron shows her the many wonders of what her body can do.  R/Hr , rating for sex.


**Title:** The Body Electric

**Author/Artist: wordsmithsonian**

**Summary: **Hermione has never particularly liked her body, but she rethinks her self assessment when Ron shows her the many wonders of what her body can do.

**Rating: **NC-17

**Characters/Pairings: **Ron and Hermione

**Warnings: **Sex, mild Angst

**A/N:** Thanks to urbanmama1 for her amazing Beta skills, and for generously providing both the title and summary! Thanks to tristelamar_23 for all of her help and her willingness to brainstorm with me!

**Prompt:** " i like my body when it is with your

body. It is so quite new a thing." - e.e. cummings

I own nothing Harry Potter.

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><p>Hermione Granger had never been especially happy with her body. It had always seemed inadequate, at every stage of her life.<p>

The fact that she didn't like her body had never fussed her too much; she had always had more important things on her mind. In fact, her mind had always seemed more important than her body to begin with. So she had simply not bothered to notice her body any longer, focusing instead on all of those more important things.

That is, until she noticed something quite important, indeed.

She had noticed that perhaps her body, that perhaps bodies in general, or rather more specifically _female_ bodies in general, were quite remarkably important to _him. _

She began to notice the way his eyes lingered on girls whose bodies were more... adequate than her own. So she took an honest physical inventory of herself to determine just how inadequate she really was.

The results were not encouraging, to say the least.

She started at the bottom and worked her way up, avoiding the issue of her hair for as long as possible.

Feet. Adequate, unremarkable, which she supposed was usually a good thing with feet.

Legs. Skinny, pale, more than a little bit too short.

Hips. Narrow, quite noticeably lacking the feminine curve that had been drawing _his_ eye for a while now.

Stomach. Soft, pale, entirely too boring.

Breasts. Small, far too small, entirely inadequate. Nothing to bump out her jumper like the girls _he _liked to stare at when he thought nobody was looking. Except that _she_ was looking.

Arms. See "Legs."

Face. Plain, pale, nothing to look at, really. Plain brown eyes, ordinary lips just perhaps a trifle too wide, plain chin that had a regrettable tendency to jut when she was angry. Just... plain.

Hair. She didn't bother adding that to the inventory, as it was, as always, well past inadequate and firmly in the realm of "horrible."

So, with this careful inventory, Hermione Granger had come to the conclusion that she would never like her body. That fact had always been there, tucked away in a cupboard kept in the winding back corridors of her mind, left in storage while she had far more important things to think about.

Like examinations, or House Elf rights, or helping Harry Potter save the world.

Tonight, that cupboard had been flung wide open. By _him._

She bit her lip, trying not to cringe and cower as he peeled away the protective layers of her clothing, his blue eyes burning along her skin.

She knew, intellectually, that he had felt nearly all of her body during the countless hours they had spent snogging, pressed as tightly together as they could possibly manage.

She had certainly felt his body. His long limbs, his solid core, his big, strong hands, and the mysterious male hardness of him pushed insistently against her. She knew that he must have felt her as well, every inadequate inch of her.

It was different, now. Now she had to look into his face when he saw _all _of her.

She also knew, of course, that it didn't matter what her body looked like, that he loved her just the same. Except... it-it _did_ matter. Quite a lot, actually.

He was very nearly naked himself, stripped down to his faded plaid underpants which now tented outward, noticeably distended in a truly fascinating manner as he hovered over her.

He licked his lips as he gently drew the straps of her nondescript cotton bra down her arms, reaching one big hand behind her to fumble with the clasp, cursing under his breath as his brow furrowed in obvious concentration.

The triumphant grin on his face when the clasp fell apart very nearly succeeded in putting her at ease, until he was pulling it away, dropping it on the floor, lowering his eyes to really _look_ at her.

She panicked, crossing her arms over herself, one clamped tight over the insignificant bumps on her chest and the other held low over her belly, trying to cover as much of herself as possible with her skinny arms.

His grin faded into a frown, his eyes shooting back up to hers, softening in concern. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a raspy croak, so he cleared his throat and tried again.

"Hermione, is everything alright? If-if you don't want this, we don't have to... I can-I can wait."

His eyes were wide open, pinned to her face as he appeared to hold his breath. His noble offer seemed to cost him something, like he had just sacrificed the Cannon's last chance at winning a match.

She shook her head slowly, nearly cracking a smile as his breath whooshed out noisily.

"No. I want this. I do. I just think that... could-could you just please try not to, well, _look _at me?"

His eyes automatically scanned her body at the words, coming back up to stare guiltily into her face. He shrugged his shoulders, the action somehow striking her as terribly masculine as his hands remained fisted, pushing into the mattress on either side of her. She could see every muscle and tendon of his torso tense and relax with the movement in hypnotizing synchronicity. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes searching her face.

"Why?"

She felt her skin burning with shame. She could never explain it to him, he would only tell her that she was being silly, that he thought she looked fine. He had said as much before, but he was only being kind. He could be wonderfully kind when he set his mind to it.

Instead, she wrestled the sheet out from under his fist, holding it over her breasts as she pushed to sit up, scanning the floor for his trousers.

"Hermione …"

She continued to look over his messy floor, refusing to turn her head.

"Do you have the Deluminator with you?"

There were a few beats of silence, each seeming to grow larger to fill the space around them, pressing them closer together. His voice finally broke the silence, an emphatic whisper against the back of her neck.

"Always."

Now she looked at him, nearly losing her hold on the sheet as she fell into his eyes, deep blue pools drawing her in. His face was serious, raw boned and open, his nostrils flaring slightly as he gazed into her eyes.

She chewed her lip, sliding her gaze away to rest on his shoulder.

"Could you use it, please?"

More silence, this time stretching on and on as she felt him staring, willing her to look at him. Finally he sighed, the mattress shifting as he stood and fetched the Deluminator from his pocket, dousing the room in near-darkness with a single click.

The only light in the room now was the thin slice of moonlight streaming in through his single window. Hermione watched him set the Deluminator on his nightstand, the mattress dipping with his weight as he sat down beside her.

She could still see his face, his eyes reflecting moonlight as they caressed her face as only his eyes could, his voice soft and low.

"Better?"

She swallowed thickly, nodding. She had run out of excuses, now. She dropped the sheet and grabbed his face in one quick motion, both of her hands coming up to hold his jaw, pulling his lips down to hers.

He made a deep noise in the back of his throat, his arms coming around her, long fingers reaching all the way back around her ribs, just skimming the curve of one breast as he pressed her tight against him, what curves she did possess yielding to his firm body.

She gasped as she felt all of their skin slide together for the very first time, her being flooded with wonder at the sensation. She could feel his heart, beating hard and fast against her own. Two hearts trying to escape their owners chests and meld together into something beautiful and new.

He leaned forward, slowly pushing her onto her back, sandwiched between the mattress and his body. Something... shifted inside of her when their bodies were touching like this. She could feel it like a new world unfolding in her soul, a doorway flung open by forces beyond her control.

His hands cupped her shoulders, rubbing over her arms and hesitating for a tangible moment before brushing over her breasts. Breasts that came alive to his touch, breasts that suddenly felt... more than adequate as he moaned her name, his fingers reverent and slow. Her body moved on its own, seeming to know all of the answers before her brain could catch up, arching into his touch. Her breasts thrust themselves insistently into his hands, earning her a hot glance before he leaned away just enough to look down at his hands on her body.

She didn't hide, because suddenly there was no need. This body, the body pressed beneath his, all sliding skin and naked nerves and aching flesh, this body was something to celebrate.

She ran her own hands up his arms, feeling the ropey muscles tense and quiver, her eyes wide open, adjusted now to the moonlight and able to see him in stunning detail. His eyes jumped back and forth between her face and body, a feverish light setting the blue aflame. She wondered if there were flames in her own brown eyes. She thought that perhaps there were, and that perhaps flaming eyes were not so very plain after all.

She shifted beneath him, sliding her knees apart slowly as she pulled the leg free that had been trapped between his, turning her hips into a cradle for his body. Hips that felt undeniably feminine, hips that felt powerful and seductive as they had never felt before. He paused for a breathless moment before thrusting his hips against hers as though he simply couldn't help himself. She wondered if his body knew all of the answers, too. She felt the broad muscles of his back bunch and relax beneath her questing hands as he moved against her. She rather thought that it did.

She was plummeting deeper and deeper, the scent of him wrapping around her senses like wind and water and every force of nature she had ever been helpless to resist. She opened her mouth, tasting the skin of his throat in great gasping kisses, feeling the rumble of approval in his chest vibrate through her. _He_ was vibrating through her, running along her nerves like lightning.

Nerves that seemed to wake and multiply, every centimeter of her body coming alive and aware in ways it had never been before. Aware of _him_, and suddenly aware of itself in a manner that had never seemed possible before, but that now felt so clear, so obvious as he moved above her.

It was as though her plain, ordinary body had been reborn in the flames of their love like a phoenix rising from the ashes, incandescent and glorious.

His mouth captured hers in a drugging kiss and she surged up against him, lips and tongue and teeth warring to taste and feel every amazing nuance of him. She could taste his nervousness and elation, his triumph and possessiveness as he lay claim to her with his lips, with his body. She used her body, this new and magnificent thing in which her soul resided, to claim him back.

His breath was coming hard and fast, battering her skin as he began to work his way down to her breasts, his eyes holding hers as he pressed a lingering kiss to the center of her chest, just over her heart. Her heart leaped to meet his lips, her hands spearing through his hair to hold him close against her.

Even in the spare moonlight, his hair was bright and dazzling, fiery silk dragged across her skin as he turned his head to kiss her breast. He opened his mouth over the peak, the warm, wet pull of him twanging every one of those newly awakened nerves, setting up a throbbing ache between her legs, where his firm midsection now pressed against her.

She moved restlessly, moaning as he kissed his way down her stomach. Every inch of skin that had once seemed so plain, so inadequate was now a precious canvas for his attentions. He openly worshiped the soft expanse of flesh above her knickers, rubbing his face almost helplessly against her, muttering low and rough into her skin.

Her legs tried to close against him as he reached for her knickers, but she stopped to take a breath, relaxing and opening for him once more. He said her name, not really a question at all, just an affirmation, perhaps a prayer as he pulled the cloth away, laying her truly bare to him.

They both held very still for an endless moment, his eyes glued to her naked body, her eyes glued to his face. She didn't hide, because this body was nothing she could keep from him, this body was his already, before he had even taken it. She saw nothing in his face but adoration, well, perhaps a tiny edge of incredulous awe, almost like a child who could not believe the present he had just unwrapped was truly his.

He swallowed visibly, his throat bobbing as he raised his eyes to hers, his skin flushed pink all the way to his chest. His hands ran slowly up her legs, the rough skin of his palms leaving a tingling trail everywhere he touched. She gathered her courage, holding his gaze as she slid her hands over his, bringing them to the center he had been so slowly, tortuously approaching.

She closed her eyes, whispering his name as he cursed under his breath, his shaking fingers caressing her flesh like she was something precious, and under his hands she felt, no, she _knew_, that she was. That perhaps she had been all along and that it had simply taken this, _him_, to reveal the truth.

She reached up to grab onto his shoulders, pulling him down to her so that they lay face to face, their breath mingling in warms bursts between wet, frantic kisses. Her hands explored the infinite wonder of his body with long, sure strokes, roaming over his chest and back, delving beneath his elastic waistband over his firm bum.

She pulled at the restricting cloth, shoving it down over his jutting hipbones, her hands reaching between their bodies to be suddenly filled with the swollen length of him. He caught his breath, holding very, very still as she explored him with her hands until he began to shake, his body trembling over hers with barely leashed power waiting to be released. She grasped the fabric, shoving it further down his legs until he pulled away just long enough to kick them off, returning to her in the blink of an eye.

She could feel him pulsing at the entrance to her body, his eyes steady and serious on hers, wide in question. She framed his face with her hands, kissing him gently as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her body opening to him perfectly. He opened his mouth, stuttering out something that must have been a question, but she just nodded in return, waiting, waiting...

Then he was surging forward, stretching her beyond her limits in sore pinching perfection as their bodies grew together into something quite so new, something so wonderful she could never have imagined it.

Every muscle of his body tensed as he held painfully still inside of her, barely breathing as he looked into her face, his shaking hand pushing away a wayward curl. His voice was soft and deep, echoing through the deepest reaches of her body.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded again, unable to say anything beyond his name, which she said over and over as he began to move within her. They slid together deeper and deeper beneath the surface, clinging to one another as they became the only thing in the world, the universe narrowing down to this room, to this bed.

He pressed hard inside her, muscles locking as he breathed her name, the warm rush of him flooding her, another bit of perfection she could never have imagined.

They rolled together, limbs hopelessly tangled as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. He ran his hand over her hair again and again, his lips pressed to her forehead as he struggled to control his breath.

She wondered at this new feeling, this power her body possessed now... her body, something to praise and pride about herself, from this moment on.

After a few precious minutes spent sticking together, she turned, reaching for his nightstand. With a single click, the room was flooded with light, both of them blinking rapidly at the sudden change.

He pushed up on one elbow, tilting his head.

"Hermione, what are you-"

"I'm not hiding anymore. I'm yours now, all of me, to see if you wish"

She gestured to her naked body, watching his eyes light up as his mouth kicked up at the corner.

"Blimey."

She laughed softly, climbing back on top of him as they began to explore each other's bodies anew, aided by the light and newfound familiarity.

Hermione Granger realized that she actually _liked _her body, just the way it was, because it was with his body, just the way he was, and there was nothing in the world more perfect than that.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reviewing!<strong>


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